


Heat

by Rockinmuffin



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Biology, F/M, Fluff, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Written before female turians were confirmed to have boobies, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockinmuffin/pseuds/Rockinmuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Right then, more than anything, you wanted to be scorched by those smoldering flames, even if it meant reducing your body to nothing but ashes.</p><p>Pure, unadulterated smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Mass Effect and all its characters belong to the wonderful people at Bioware. I just borrow and whore them out for my own amusement.

You weren’t entirely sure how to go about this. It was like taking pieces from two separate jigsaw puzzles and smashing them together in the hopes that they just might form some half-comprehensible image.

You were standing bare-ass naked, hands on your hips in thought as you stared down at the nervous turian lying rigidly on your mattress. The two of you shared a look, nervous and anxious but excited all the same, one simple thought lingering at the forefront of both your minds: _How is this going to work?_

But, if you were anything, you were stubborn as hell and you wanted this too much to back down now. Besides, the way he sucked in his breath as you crawled onto the bed and climbed over him was enough to tell you that Garrus wanted this just as much as you did.

You lowered yourself on top of him, the softness of your breasts pressing against the hardened skin and muscles of his chest. Your right leg settled down between both of his, nestled warm and safe against his thighs. You felt him tense beneath you, a myriad of emotions beaming off of him. Nervousness, joy, apprehension, desire, but mostly fear; fear that this wouldn’t work out, that he’d mess it up, that your friendship would be tainted and ruined forever while the infant sparks of anything more would be extinguished before they even had the chance to properly flourish.

A brush of your lips against his beak-like mouth was enough to sweep away the insecure demons eating at his thoughts. Vaguely, in the back of his mind he wondered if mouth-to-mouth contact was a bad idea, considering the potential exchange of saliva could be hazardous, but it felt so nice he didn’t give it much of a second thought. It was an unfamiliar sensation to him, soft and pleasant and leaving him tingling for more. For the first time in his life, he found himself wishing that he had pliable lips because he wanted nothing more than the ability to return the favor.

Then your tongue was in his mouth, twirling around his own, lightly scraping across his teeth, and he felt liquid fire burning through his veins.

You flinched in surprise as talons gripped your hips, holding you tightly to his body but careful not to puncture skin. His hands were scalding hot on your flesh, his body giving off an intense heat, a blazing inferno that threatened to ensnare and devour you completely. And right then, more than anything, you wanted to be scorched by those smoldering flames, even if it meant reducing your body to nothing but ashes.

You pulled away from his mouth, breathless and panting from more than just a lack of air. Your tongue tingled; the tell-tale sign of an allergic reaction. Garrus gave you little time to recover. Before you even had a chance to breathe, you found yourself flipped on your back, a solid mass of very warm, very _male_ , turian on top of you. The sharp ridges of his body poked against you none-too-gently but you couldn’t be bothered to care because he was looking down at you with a passion that left you frozen in place. There were so many emotions swirling through those blue eyes; trust and affection and the utmost admiration clouded over with a haze of lust.

“Shepard…” he breathed, warm air tickling your cheeks. His mouth soon closed, embarrassed and unsure, too shy to continue, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes.

_I want this to work between us._

_I want this to be a night we’ll never forget._

_I want to make love to you._

_I want…_

You brought your hand to his face, silencing those unspoken desires with a brush of your fingertips against his scarred flesh. Your touch trailed along his mandible, down his neck, stopping at his collarbone when you felt a rumbling purr vibrating from deep within his chest. Your lips quirked into a smile as you traced your finger along his shoulder, the purring sound growing louder with each move you made. You attempted to sit up, fully intending to replace your fingers with the soft plush of your lips—allergies be damned—but a talon firmly pushed against the center of your chest, forcing you to lie back down on the bed.

You raised an eyebrow at the action, watching Garrus with lips curled in amusement. The turian, however, was avoiding eye contact, his good mandible twitching but hugging his face tightly in his nervousness. His eyes focused on anything but your face as he cautiously brushed the back of his hand over the side of your breast, earning him an almost embarrassingly feminine gasp in response. The sound encouraged him, spurring him onward. Emboldened, the tip of a single talon swept across your breast, teasing the sensitive skin of your nipple to erectness. Enthralled, Garrus continued to prod at the sensitive nub of flesh, chuckling at the breathy moans that escaped past plump lips and clenched teeth. His other hand soon joined in the fray to give your opposite breast equal attention, stroking over your nipple lightly with the ghost of a touch that left you wanting more.

“You know,” he began with a forced calm; you could hear the strained hints of arousal and anxiety creeping into his voice; “I never understood the fascination males of your species have with the mammary glands of the asari and female humans… But if all women are as, um, _receptive_ as you…” He paused for a moment, pinching your nipple and reveling in the drawn-out feminine groan it induced. “Well, let’s just say I’m beginning to see what all the fuss is about.”

 _You talk too much_ , you wanted to say, but every time you opened your mouth the only sound you could make was a garbled moan. It had been too long since you had last been intimate with anyone and his hands were far too distracting for someone belonging to a species of people whose females didn’t even have breasts. You continued to writhe beneath him, your hands sliding down his shoulders to run up and down the length of his arms, back across his collarbone, making a path down his chest, tracing along his muscles as they traveled lower and lower.

His hands halted their assault. His eyes finally made contact with yours, no longer avoiding your gaze; he was still nervous, you could tell, but he was determined to keep your eyes locked. His breath came out in shaky gasps, puffs of warm air brushing against your cheeks. His hands moved to your shoulders, talons grazing the skin. His eyes watched you, flickering with the flames of desire. He whispered your name in a needy, desperate gasp.

It was all the encouragement you needed and more.

Your hands moved lower, fingers tickling their way down his waist until one hand gripped firmly around his member. It was hot and hard and throbbing within your palm; not too different from its human counterpart in that respect. You circled your thumb around the tip and smirked as Garrus bucked his hips into your grasp two times before he regained enough self-control to keep still.

“Shepard…” he breathed out in a sound strangely akin to a whine, yet still retaining his usual gravelly tone. You decided you liked the sound and rewarded him with a few firm pumps of your hand. He buried his face in your hair, mandibles lightly tangling in the strands as he growled out his pleasure in your ear. You liked that sound even better. You increased your hand’s pace.

You could hear his breathing quicken, feel his talons digging into your shoulder blades until they stung. You kissed his neck, nibbling at the junction of leathery skin where neck met shoulder. You flinched only a little bit when his claws dug into your skin deep enough to draw blood, not that you really minded. You enjoyed seeing this wild side of him, content with the knowledge that it was you who caused it.

Garrus didn’t notice the scratches his talons made; if he had, he would’ve been mortified with himself for losing control, for hurting you when he wanted nothing more than to show you his passion. At the moment, however, he wasn’t aware of much anything beyond your lips on his neck and your hand on his cock and your body beneath his just waiting, _begging_ to be fucked.

He could feel your wetness against his thigh, smell the musky scent of sex in the air. Garrus growled in the back of his throat, his hands roughly sliding down your body until a lone talon was prodding against the slick lips of your sex while another rubbed against the erect bud of flesh above your entrance.

Your hand on his member slowed its movements but the breathy moans of his name on your lips more than made up for it. Within seconds, that playful talon that had been poking at your entrance was inside of you, thrusting in and out at a fast pace, fucking you roughly. Garrus felt the way your inner muscles clenched around his finger and suppressed another growl as he imagined what it would feel like around his cock. All warm and wet and _tight_. He could feel himself twitch against your fingers.

You felt like you were about to explode. Garrus wasn’t kidding when he had bragged about his reach because, right then, he was reaching places in your body that you didn’t even know existed. His talon curled _just so_ and your vision was filled with stars and all the air escaped your lungs in a scream so loud it left your throat raw. Through your hazy vision, you just barely noticed the way his eyes flashed in the turian equivalent of a smirk before he attacked that spot again with full-force, the talon that rubbed against your clitoris increasing its pressure.

But as good as it felt, it wasn’t what you wanted. No more foreplay. You wanted _him_.

“Quit dicking around, Vakarian, and just stick it in me already.”

He pulled his hands away from your sex as he laughed, the sound pleasant and husky as you felt it rumble within his chest. He grabbed hold of your waist, his talons stroking purposefully against your skin. He lowered his head, his eyes twinkling as he brushed his nose against yours. “Is that an order, Commander?” he teased, his mouth so close to yours that you could taste his breath.

You growled. “What the hell did I _just_ say?”

He chuckled again, continuously rubbing his nose against yours as his hands lowered to firmly grip your hips. “Aww, you’re no fun.”

“I’m plenty of fun,” you replied, your arms wrapping around his neck and your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush against your body. You could feel his stiffness poking your thigh as you rubbed against him. “You just have to play by my rules.”

Garrus closed his eyes, sucking in a deep breath in an attempt to stay calm, resisting the urge to hold you down and claim you roughly. Your consistent rubbing was making the task unnecessarily difficult. “You play dirty,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yeah,” you admitted as you traced a finger down the sensitive skin at the back of his neck, positioning your hips so that his member was sliding against the lips of your sex. “And you love it.”

“Shepard! Damn it!” he cursed, his talons tightening their grip on your hips as he bucked against you. His eyes opened, narrowing at the sight of your lips curled into a smirk. “Now who’s being a tease?”

Your response was to buck your hips against his sharply, causing the turian to hiss out several more obscenities. “I’m tired of talking, Garrus.” You stared up at him, your cheeks warm, your body hot, and your eyes burning. “Don’t make me beg.”

He returned your heated gaze, all hints of teasing gone from his eyes, replaced by lust and compassion and something more that you weren’t quite willing to accept—at least, not yet. He kept his eyes on you, even as he reached over you to snatch something off your nightstand.

You quirked an eyebrow as he frantically ripped open the foil packet, pulling out the condom with trembling hands. He noticed your look and shrank under your gaze, moving back to rest his weight on your legs while fumbling nervously with the rubber in his hold.

“Mordin insisted,” he managed to sputter, mandibles twitching and hugging his face. “He mentioned direct contact of… certain fluids… could cause irritation. Or anaphylactic shock. Heh. Brings a whole different meaning to the term ‘safe sex,’ doesn’t it?” He laughed nervously as he unraveled the condom over his erect member.

You shook your head, the hint of a smile curling at the corners of your lips. “You’re lucky you have such a sexy voice.”

Garrus looked down at you, mandibles flaring out into a turian grin. “You think my voice is sexy, huh?” He crawled back up your body, positioning himself above you. He gave you an overly smug look as he prodded your lower lips with the tip of his member. “And here I thought you liked me for my dashing good looks and my charming personality.”

You gave him a lopsided grin. “I like all of those things… but it was actually your _reach_ that was the deciding factor, you—”

And you were going to say something else to tease him but when you opened your mouth no sound came out other than a surprised squeal because, just like that, he was inside you. He was hot and hard and filled you up nicely and you could feel his heartbeat pulsing within you so intensely that it made you squirm beneath his weight.

Garrus chuckled, deep and throaty. “I’m sorry, were you saying something?” He pulled out slowly until just the tip of his member was inside and then delivered another sharp thrust. He repeated the action, over and over, and you could not hold back the guttural moans. “It’s hard to hear you over the sound of me fucking you senseless.”

That smug tone of voice caught your attention and it made your blood boil. How did he manage to piss you off and turn you on all in the same breath?

“Fucking me senseless, huh? This is barely more than foreplay.” You wrapped your legs around him tightly, gripped his shoulders with enough force to turn your knuckles white, and mustered enough strength to roll him over so that his back was pressed against the mattress, his cowl making the position only slightly awkward. “You’re going to have to do better than that, Vakarian.” You smirked down at him, taking a moment to enjoy your physical dominance over the larger male until you felt him twitch inside of you and were instantly reminded of what you were doing in the first place.

You set a fast and furious pace, riding him with shameless abandon. You threw your head back, bangs sticking to your sweat-slick forehead, moans and prayers and curses slipping past your lips. His hands were on your thighs, holding you in place as his hips thrust up to meet with yours. You voiced your pleasure with a high-pitched keen, your fingernails scraping against the plates of his chest harmlessly. Your eyes clenched shut as you basked in the sensations of his talons scratching the skin of your thighs and his dick thrusting up to meet you every time you plunged down upon him.

“Shepard…”

It was so hard to open your eyes but you somehow managed, staring down at him with lust-blurred vision. He looked up at you as if you were a god, eyes wide and mouth parted like a man discovering faith for the first time. You felt powerful and sexy and, quite frankly, a little scared, because you’d never been stared at with such reverence before. You were used to the hero worship, the admiration of thousands of people who knew you by name alone, but to be looked at by someone who really knew you—someone who saw all your flaws and scars and ugliness—to be looked upon as if you were perfect by someone who knew you weren’t… It was indescribable.

You wanted to tell him how much that meant to you, how much _he_ meant to you, but you couldn’t find the words. You leaned down instead, slowly pressing your forehead against his.

“Garrus” you whispered, warm breath fanning out across his face.

He moved his talons up to your back, holding you gently even as you continued to move your hips against him. It was sweet and comforting and not at all what you had imagined when you first got the idea in your head to blow off steam with Garrus Vakarian. You’d thought it would be rough, fun; like a sparring match that everyone wins. You thought it would be an endless night of sweaty fucking, rounds of sex separated by drinks and teasing and reminiscing of the good ol’ days. But this didn’t feel like fucking.

It felt like making love.

And then you felt like an idiot, because you weren’t some sixteen-year-old cherry who didn’t know any better. You were a grown woman, hardened by battle, and more than old enough to know the difference between sex and love.

You didn’t love Garrus. Love was just a chemical reaction in the mind, a fickle cloud of hormones and emotions that faded away with time and increased exposure.

Garrus was a great soldier and a greater friend. He always had your back. You could depend on him to be there, standing by your side, when everyone else turned away. Most important of all, you knew that you could charge head-first into an active battle zone, rockets shooting past your head, because you had the utmost faith that Garrus Vakarian would gun down anyone who so much as looked at you funny.

You _trusted_ Garrus Vakarian, with your life, and—right now—with your body, and that was something stronger than any amount of hormones could ever hope to amount to.

You squeaked as you felt a sneaky tongue lap at your nipple. Garrus chuckled deeply at the sound, even as he struggled to catch his breath. You raked your nails down his waist in retaliation and he groaned, briefly losing his rhythm as he thrust up into you. Stars flashed across your vision.

“Garrus,” you breathed, “I don’t know… how much longer I can...I can…”

“It’s okay.” Garrus’ breath was hot on your skin. “I’m close too.”

His grip on you tightened before, suddenly, you found yourself lying flat on your back, your legs wrapped tightly around Garrus’ waist as he pounded into you, his movements losing rhythm with each desperate thrust of his hips.

You felt something building up inside of you, coming closer and closer to completion every time Garrus’ hips met your own. You clung to Garrus, wrapping you legs around his waist and holding on as if your life depended on it. Garrus buried his face against the crook of your neck. “I’m going to make you come, Shepard,” he growled, the sound muffled against your skin.

And he did. Between his voice in your ear and the way he was jack-hammering into your body, you never stood a chance. All you could do was throw your head back and gasp as your senses were overwhelmed by toe-curling pleasure. A few more thrusts and Garrus followed soon after, releasing the loudest growl you’d heard from him all night before he collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he regained his breath.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment; you, sweaty and breathless, and Garrus, lying in a boneless heap on top of you, his weight against your chest more soothing than it was uncomfortable in spite of the jagged plates of his bone structure digging into your flesh.

Eventually, he pulled away; just long enough to take off the condom, tie it up, and toss it into the nearest rubbish bin. You missed the heat of his body.

But then he was back on the bed, lying on his side so that he was facing you. He regarded you fondly, eyes soft and mandibles flexing into a tired turian smile. You smiled back, reaching towards him with hesitant fingers. He met you halfway, entwining his fingers with yours, and you marveled at how they managed to fit together so perfectly—like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle—despite the vast differences.


End file.
